Rising

Chapter 1: Recruitment

Methodically, Aaron clears and crosses the street. He moves towards a bar which was seemingly intact, hoping for the best. He walks across the street, grass and broken concrete crunching beneath his boots. He steps off of the street, walking up to the front of the building. He peers in, seeing nothing that immediately popped out. He then grabs the door handle.

Slowly, Aaron turns the doorknob, then quickly pushing in the door. He raises his rifle immediately, moving in and clearing the front room of the bar. He lets out a sigh of relief once he found the room was empty, shutting and locking the front door. He grabs some booze off of the shelves, surprised that there was any left. He puts a couple bottles in his bag,

Moving towards the back of the bar, he does the same for the next door. He turns the knob slowly, then shoves the door in. He moves in, pulling out his knife. He spots a runner standing in a corner, alone, and slowly sneaks behind it. He grabs it by the neck, shoving his kabar into the back of the undead fox's skull. He then slowly moves the corpse to the ground, pulling his knife out and wiping it clean on the fox's shirt. He stands back up, finishing clearing the rest of the room and nodding.

"God damn, first time I've had shelter in a decent while. Forgot how nice it was," the wolf says, sheathing the knife and collapsing into a chair.

He runs his hand through his hair, growling softly at how long it was getting. Long hair was a weakness. Could easily get snagged on something or grabbed by a biter. Both could easily get you killed. He grabs a bit of rope from his bag, tying it up and hiding it under a coyote brown hat with a slightly lighter American flag on it.

"This will have to do," he says, setting his bag down on the floor, it having an audible thud.

He gets back up, walking over and locking the door he had just come in from. He takes a look around the room, finally getting a chance to fully know where he was. It seemed to be a break room, and a pretty decent one at that. There was a counter with a sink and a microwave on it, and a wooden table with a few chairs around it. Not really anywhere to sleep or anything to sleep on, but it would do.

He lies down on the cold, hard wood, using his arm as a pillow. He purrs softly, wagging his tail as he dozes off. Finally, he could sleep peacefully, without a worry in the world about being eaten in his sleep. Before the apocalypse, he never thought that he'd enjoy sleep so much.

The next morning arrives, another dreary day to survive. Aaron sits up, growling softly. He grabs his bag, putting it on his shoulders. He groans as he stands up, grabbing his Black Rain AR15 and slinging it over his shoulder. He stretches his back. Well, at least as much as his plate carrier will allow. He glances around, his ear twitching softly. Crouching down, he brings his rifle to a low ready. A loud bang emanates from the front of the destroyed bar, likely a gunshot.

Quickly, he moves to the door, rigging a small trap. He hooks a wire to the door handle and to an m67 grenade's pin. With a soft chuckle, he sneaks out the back of the bar. He silently shuts the door behind him, clicking it shut. He lets out a sigh of relief, walking out of the mossy alley.

Aaron's ears shoot up, him turning his head to the sound. Loud banging comes from the store, then a yell of panic, then another extremely loud bang. The trap had gone off, and whoever was in there was long gone. The wolf quickly runs off. Looking back, he trips over a rock and lands face first into the broken up concrete, luckily mostly hitting dirt. Grunting from the impact, he quickly gets back up.

A bluejay runs around the corner, rifle in hand. He instantly freezes when he sees Aaron. He then quickly tries to raise his gun. Aaron, having his gun up by then, puts three into the bird's chest. The suppressed shots definitely would alert the rest of the bird's group if there was any, but no more than that grenade would have.